


how do you whisk?

by daggertattoos



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anniversary, Cooking, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, at least he tries to, louis cooks, married, oh well, theyre kinda cute, this turned out way longer than it was supposed to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggertattoos/pseuds/daggertattoos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>can you imagine harry watching his favourite cooking show and a sulking louis taking down notes bc his husband told him to</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	how do you whisk?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so first off, the idea came from a tweet by @GAYLlNSON on twitter (but the tweet is gone now :( I think it was deleted), so full credit to them for the idea, like when I saw it, I just HAD to write it and it turned into a little of something else but oh well. 
> 
> The recipe in this is an actual recipe that you can find [here](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/nick-and-tonis-penne-alla-vecchia-bettola-recipe.html) and I have no idea if it's actually good, it just went well with the story.
> 
> But anyway this was just a quick one for fun and I didn't proofread so any mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Louis doesn't understand cooking shows. Never has. First, who the hell has labels for every jar and bottle and tin and drawer and shelf in their kitchen? Second of all, nobody actually needs that many different versions of a fucking spoon. It's just a spoon. Oh, and why do the chefs need to look good anyway? They're just cooking at home. And what about those people who come at the end of the show to eat? Their so-called ‘friends’. Do they just get paid to eat? God.

What Louis doesn't understand even more is why Harry feels to need to make him watch these shows with him. The fucking _torture_. He has to sit there and watch these people with their too-big smiles and their too-clean kitchens and their funny ingredients. What's chorizo anyway? But he supposes getting to cuddle with Harry and pretend he's watching the show doesn't seem too bad.

Except he doesn't get to do that. Instead, Harry comes along and places a notebook and a pen in Louis' lap, being awfully quiet as he sits down, gently pushing away Louis' outstretched legs, forcing him to sit upright. Harry still doesn't say anything when he reaches for the remote, switching the tv on and he puts on his pre-recorded favourite cooking show. It's when Harry starts humming along to the theme song of the show that Louis decides to ask, “What's going on?”

Harry turns to him, an almost startled look on his face as if he forgot Louis was there and he cocks his head to the side innocently, answering, “I'm watching Barefoot Contessa.”

“I can see that,” Louis says flatly, rolling his eyes and he gestures to the items in his lap. “But what are these for?”

“Oh!” Harry clicks his fingers like he just remembered something and he wiggles around a little so his knees are pressing into Louis' thighs. “I like the recipe in this episode, so I want you to write it down and take notes on it.”

Louis presses his lips together, looking unimpressed when he mutters, “You know they have those online, right?”

Harry sighs, his shoulders slumping a little and he almost whines, “But those are just the recipes! I want all the little tips she gives _while_ she's cooking and you can only get those if you take it directly from the show.”

“So why don't you do it then?”

Harry pouts, his bottom lip jutting out cutely and Louis wants to bite him, but then he says, “I need to focus on watching how she cooks. I can't do that _and_ take notes at the same time. So you have to do it. Unless _you_ want to watch how she cooks then-”

“Notes!” Louis interrupts quickly, grabbing the notebook as he bares his teeth awkwardly. “I'm doing notes. You can watch.”

“Good.” Harry looks content and pleased with himself when he turns back to the tv, his gaze immediately focusing on what she's doing.

Louis tries not to grumble as he flicks open the book, writing down the ingredients that she's mentioning and somewhere along the way he stops to ask, “What's the difference between Spanish onions and like, non-Spanish onions?”

Harry just shushes him, simply giving him a wave of his fingers as he dismisses Louis' question. Louis rolls his eyes but he keeps writing. “Ooh, vodka! Good one.” He snickers to himself, underlining that particular ingredient. He's down to the last ingredient, but, “How do you-”

“P-A-R-M-I-G-I-A-N-O,” Harry answers, a knowing smile on his lips even though he isn't even looking at Louis and Louis grins to himself, spelling out the word on his paper.

The lady on the tv goes on and on and she's saying things far too quickly for Louis to understand, as if _everyone_ knew what the fuck ‘al dente’ means. “She's talking too fast,” Louis complains, a frown on his lips.

Harry doesn't even glance at Louis, his hand just hovers over the remote and he sounds distracted when he asks, “Do you want me to rewind it?”

“And make me watch it _again?_ ” Louis shudders. “No, thank you. I'm good.”

At least this time Harry laughs at him a little, and Louis actually watches the show for a second, head cocking to the side curiously. “She says two tablespoons of salt, but she's just throwing it in _without_ a spoon.”

“She's a professional chef, Louis. She's been doing it for years,” Harry explains, sounding just slightly exasperated. “Of course she knows how much salt to put in.”

“What's the point of all those funny spoons then?” Louis asks, perking up a little as he gets even more riled up. “And what if she's wrong? What if she puts too much? Or too little? What if it tastes bad?”

Harry's got a hint of a smile playing on his lips and his hand comes over to pat Louis' thigh lightly, but his eyes are still trained on the tv screen. “She tastes it at the end and she says it tastes fine, love.”

“But how would _you_ know? How would anyone really know?” Louis counters, a stubborn tone in his voice, his finger jabbing at Harry's rib to try and get his attention. “She could be lying. People on tv always lie. It's called acting. I should know.”

“Because you were an actor?” Harry teases, sneaking a cheeky glance at Louis, who's got this angry puppy look on his face and Harry almost laughs, but he holds himself back, nudging Louis' side instead. “You do realise you're actually watching the show now, don't you?”

“No, I'm not,” Louis shoots back far too quickly, huffing and turning away from Harry, back to his notebook. It's somewhere between draining the pasta and processing the tomatoes that Louis gets distracted, doodling nonsense all over the lined paper. He's happily drawing until he catches a glance of Harry out of the corner of his eye, seeing him moving his hands around and muttering words to himself. Louis arches an eyebrow, turning to Harry and he asks, “Uh, Harry? What are you doing with your hands?”

“I'm practicing,” is Harry's response, a smug look on his face as he continues to make over-exaggerated hand gestures. “So that when I'm cooking, I'll actually know how to do things.”

“Like wha-”

“Like, whisking,” Harry adds, snorting a little and he rolls his lips in to stop himself from laughing, but when he faces Louis, he can't help but burst into a fit of giggles.

“I can whisk!” Louis retorts, his nostrils flaring a little when Harry laughs even louder, saying, “Sure you can, honey,” in between his laughs.

Louis shakes his head, crossing his arms stubbornly and he fights the urge to tackle Harry to the ground. “I'm never gonna live this down, am I?”

“ _Never_.”

Louis narrows his eyes, then he sighs dramatically, getting up and dumping the notebook and pen on the couch. “I guess I'm done taking notes for the day,” he announces, beginning to walk away but Harry quickly catches his hand, pulling him back with a sheepish grin.

“No, no, I'm sorry,” Harry says, tugging Louis even closer and he presses kiss after kiss on Louis' hand. “Don't go. Please. Come on now.”

Louis isn't budging though, looking away from Harry, but he lets Harry pull him in even more until Harry's arms are coiled around his hips, his head pressed into Louis' stomach and he feels the vibration from his voice when he mumbles, “Please, Lou, for me.” And he sounds so soft, so sweet, so Louis sighs, stroking his hair for a moment before he pulls away and he sits back down, reaching for the notebook again.

“I still don't get why you're making me do this,” Louis grumbles softly, but there's a small smile on his face. “You're lucky I love you.”

“I know,” Harry answers, dimples showing as he grins. Then he adds, “And who knows, maybe you'll decide to make this for me some time. Like, for our anniversary.”

Our anniversary. The anniversary. _Fuck_. That's what this is all about. How could Louis forget? Their third anniversary is tomorrow and here he is, completely clueless. Louis quickly plasters on a bright smile, saying, “Yeah, maybe.” And Harry gives him one last beam before turning back to the tv.

And oh, Louis is fucked.

#

Louis is up early the next morning, dashing out to the grocers to get everything he needed for the recipe and he thanks fuck that he didn't scribble all over the ingredients list. He manages to hide everything once he's home and he's just about to leave the kitchen when he bumps into Harry, who's all dressed up to go out.

“Oh, hi,” Harry says, coming over to give Louis a quick peck on the lips. “I've got some stuff to do today, but I'll be back for dinner, okay?”

“Oh-”

“See you later! Love you!” Then he's gone, and Louis slumps forward, muttering lamely, “Happy Anniversary to you too.”

Louis spends the day lounging around the house by himself, moping a little but he decides not to let it get to him, since he's the one who forgot their anniversary in the first place. Just a few hours before eight, Louis goes into the kitchen, getting everything ready. Once all the ingredients and equipments are laid out, Louis realises he drew snowmen all over what little bit of the recipe he actually wrote down and he decides he's a complete goner, until he remembers his own words. _You know they have those online, right?_ If those light-bulb-above-your-head moments actually happened in real life, this moment would definitely be it. Louis quickly looks up the recipe, finding it on a cooking site, and he lets out a breath of relief.

“Okay, let's do this.”

#

When Harry comes home, he sneaks in as quietly as he can and as he suspected, Louis is in the kitchen. He feels his heart swell when he hears the sound of pots and pans, but his face falls when he hears, “Oh, fuck. _Shit_. That's hot.” Then there's a loud clatter and he winces. “No! Fucking- Oh my _god_.” There's another loud bang, a distressed cry and Harry gasps a little too loudly.

“Harry? Is that you? Oh, God. Don't come in here.”

Harry comes in anyway, and he's not sure what he's expecting to see, but it's definitely not tomatoes splattered on the shelves and spilled pasta on the counter and Louis sunk down on the ground, head in his hands.

“Louis?” He looks up at Harry with wide eyes. “What... happened?”

Louis takes a deep breath, or two. Then he stands, wobbling a little on his feet so he grips the counter tightly. “I was trying to make you that pasta from yesterday and I was doing pretty good. I got the onions done and I had the tomatoes in the oven, but they burnt and I knocked over the pasta box and I couldn't find the food processor, then I got frustrated and ended up drinking the vodka and-” He sighs sadly, a deep frown on his face and he looks so defeated.

“What about the notes?”

Louis' face goes red, and he sounds almost sheepish when he admits, “I got bored after a while and I kinda just...” He trails off and Harry reaches for the book, flipping it open to see doodles all over the pages and he almost laughs, but he holds it in, sighing loudly instead.

“I'm sorry, Harry, I tried. I know you wanted me to. But I couldn't even make pancakes, and those were from a box mix! This was just- I don't know.”

Harry is quiet for a while, the expression on his face almost blank and Louis isn't sure what to make of it, but then he cracks a smile, a soft, warm one that reaches his eyes and he asks, “How does pizza sound?”

Louis lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and he almost laughs, silently thanking the heavens above for the blessing that is Harry and he says, “Pizza sounds great.”

Harry leads him out to the living room and to his surprise, there's already two boxes of pizza on the table, so Louis arches an eyebrow, but Harry says nothing, just gestures at the boxes. Louis slowly walks over to the table in the middle of the room, and he pops the top open on one of the boxes and he gasps.

 _H + L_ spelled out with small pieces of pepperoni, in a heart of barbecue sauce.

Louis looks up at Harry, but he just smiles back, nodding at the other box. Louis opens this one a little slower, unsure what to expect, but he's sure his heart triples in size when he sees it.

_Happy Anniversary, Louis.  
I love you._

Harry watches as Louis' eyes crinkle at the corners when his smile grows, that familiar fond look lighting up his face and he waits for the big hug, or the kiss, or the ‘I love you too’.

But instead Louis says, “You knew I'd fuck up, didn't you?”

“ _What?_ ” Harry tries to sound shocked, but it doesn't seem to work because Louis just laughs, and Harry's face burns brightly. “Fine,” he admits, laughing along. “I had a feeling you might.”

Louis shrugs, then offers his hand to Harry, pulling him down beside him and he sighs contently at the pizza. “I love barbecue sauce,” he says, almost drooling.

“I know that.”

“And I love you.”

Harry smiles, his dimples even deeper than usual and it's been three years but he still feels just as giddy as he did on their wedding day, so he leans over Louis, pressing his lips firmly onto Louis' and he pulls back, whispering, “I know that too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Go check out my other Larry fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6269554)! It's a work in progress so I'd love to know what you guys think of it and whether I should keep going or not. 
> 
> Comment and kudos would be great!
> 
> Say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/giamoroustyies) or [tumblr](http://gasolineharry.tumblr.com/ask) :)


End file.
